


call me what you want

by stevebuckiest



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Steve Rogers, Awkwardness, Fluff and Humor, Gay Steve Rogers, Kinda, M/M, Making Out, POV Bucky Barnes, Pet Names, Romantic Gestures, Shy Steve Rogers, Teasing, hes just easily embarrassed when bucky teases him, hes just so ., mentioned in like one line - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckiest/pseuds/stevebuckiest
Summary: Eyes glued to Bucky’s hand tossing up the dice, Sam’s mouth moves into a lopsided grin before flicking up to Steve’s face, still only inches from Bucky’s own, lips curled up from the kiss.“You know, for all that Barnes is calling you something disgustingly sweet every two seconds, I don’t hear you doing that much,” he says, a lighthearted barb obviously directed towards Steve. Then, to Bucky, “You’ve got a list of sappy names two miles long for your boy, you know that?”Bucky shrugs, not thinking much of it. That’s the way they’ve always been, even before they got their shit together and finally kissed. He doesn’t notice the way Steve freezes next to him, too busy focusing on his roll landing (thankfully not on one of Sam’s spots) to pay much mind to him in the moment.He’s gonna regret that, eventually.(alternatively: steve is bad with pet names. bucky thinks it’s pretty cute)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 13
Kudos: 207





	call me what you want

**Author's Note:**

> a projection of one of Those headcanons i have that will never change. steve was an the only chronically ill child to a single immigrant nurse mother who would have been wary of getting him sick through too much touch. bucky was the oldest of a big well off family w an implied good relationship w his parents. theres no way steve isnt the “im not used to affection/formerly couldnt accept coddling and i love receiving it now in excess but have a hard time enjoying openly giving it except in shy and sometimes uncommon ways” type.

It happens, as most things do with the two of them, at their house. Only for once, they’re not alone- and there’s no villains in sight. They have company over, which is an occurrence all unto itself. 

Not that Bucky notices _it_ or much else outside of the monopoly game he’s got his head stuck into at the moment. Who can blame him? He might be a master assassin (because no matter what Sam likes to say, he had never been a spy- that was up Natasha and Sharon’s alleys, thank you very much) but he’s also got a competitive streak about wide enough to go from Brooklyn to Jersey, and at that moment, Sam Wilson is putting his toes into the shitty side of it with all the hotels he keeps putting down where Bucky’s luck with the dice keeps letting him land. 

Bucky blames growing up during the Depression. And Sharon for making Sam the Banker. 

Regardless, at that moment, he’s losing, Sam is laughing, Sharon is shuffling the cards like _that’s_ the problem instead of Natasha using said super spy skills to help Sam cheat, and Steve is coming out from insisting on finishing up the dishes in the kitchen with a six pack of beer in hand that he sets on the far side of the table when he slides in next to Bucky and tucks his chin on the flesh side of his shoulders to peer down at the cards Bucky’s got in his fold. 

Bucky tilts the cards to let Steve see them (and to keep Natasha from spying). Steve snorts at the move and Bucky can feel it against his neck. He slides his closest arm around Steve’s waist. 

“You on my team now?” he says, teasing his fingers up under the edge of the tight blue tee Steve’s got on (because comfy clothes for game night are according to Sharon a _must_ ) and feeling the warmth of his waist shift when Steve leans over to hand Sam a beer where the other man’s arm is outstretched in silent askance. 

Steve laughs and leans back into Bucky’s side by the time Sam is taking the first swig of his drink. “Aren’t I always?” 

Bucky sets his cards down to take his next turn at rolling the dice, ceramic of them clinking against his metal palm. He ends up rolling a number that’s just enough to have him landing on _another_ one of Sam’s spots and groans as Sam gleefully shifts his piece up where it’s located on the far side of the board. 

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, for Steve’s ears only, twisting so that their faces are closer. “Maybe those Irish genes of yours will help me out a bit. You gonna be my little good luck charm, sweetheart?”

Steve’s smile is slightly shy, always happily flustered by PDA even when it’s inside their apartment where a _lot_ more displays of all kinds of affection are on display from a day to day basis. Bucky can’t blame him, not when he’s usually feeling the same. “You taking advantage of me now, Barnes?” 

Bucky snorts and watches Sharon take her turn at rolling next, scowling slightly when she misses one of his spots by a near number. It’s like this stupid game is _taunting_ him. “It’s not taking advantage if you’re having a good time, pal.”

All in all, Bucking thinks they’re all having a good time right now. It’s been a pretty nice night (even if Bucky is losing the goddamn board game). They don’t often get the chance to all be together, whatnot with Sam and Sharon being located in DC most months and Natasha god knows where for missions she’ll barely even speak about. Outside of world-threatening emergencies, they don’t have the time to get together more than once every few months, and Bucky might have definitely gotten off to a rough start with Steve’s friends- but they’re at the point where he considers them _his_ friends too, and he likes to think they feel the same.

Even Sam, all the bitching and banter aside. Because that’s _all_ Bucky is hearing when Sam rolls his next turn and places down another hotel that Bucky is going to flip the board at if he lands on next. 

“You can’t beat pure talent,” Sam grins, passing the dice to Natasha and looking at Bucky with a smug expression that the Soldier would have _loved_ to slap away. Not that Bucky is that anymore. Although he’d still like to wipe that look off Sam’s face rather than have the board wiped with himself by losing. 

Bucky grunts and gives him a good natured glare. “Pure _luck_ , more like,” he throws back.

Sam raises his eyebrows. “You telling me they called you Lucky Bucky in the ring back in the day for nothing?” He nods when Natasha lands (finally) on one of Bucky’s spots and has to fork over a chunk of her money that puts Bucky closer to not being in last place. “Those biographies make shit up or what?”

Bucky wrinkles his nose and knows Steve is making a similar expression from on his shoulder. They both have more than one book written about them- hell, they’ve got documentaries. Museum exhibits. 

“You know damn well half of what those people say is mostly made up,” he says, sorting out his newly acquired bills while he speaks. “Neighbors were always too nosy for their own good and no one in their right mind remembers my boxing name of all things anyways.” He tips his head in acknowledgement when Steve makes a protesting noise. “Well, besides a certain someone.”

Natasha leans over to pick out her own beer from next to Steve, snatching up one for Sharon as well and popping the cap off before handing it to her with a wink. “And pray tell, Mr. Barnes, what was this name of yours? It won you some championships, if the Smithsonian at least got that right.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. She’s read his files. They all did when they were searching for him. They probably have the most accurate information on him out of everyone save for Steve, who already has his groan prepared when Bucky grins about his answer. “The Cyclone.”

It’s a joke only the two of them get- Steve blushing and hiding his face while Bucky ruffles his hair with a laugh- at least until Sam narrows his eyes at them. “As in the Coney Island ride?”

Bucky’s grin hasn’t faded. “Yeah, like the ride all right. You remember the first time I took you on it, don’t you, Stevie? Best ride of my life.” His voice is low and loaded, tone intentional. 

The tips of Steve’s ears are bright red where he still has his forehead dropped into the crook of Bucky’s neck, noise he lets out one of distress. “James Buchanan…” The warning of using his given name is weak, but Sam’s reaction once the implication sinks in is strong. 

“My _god_ ,” he complains. “The two of you are insufferable. Who knew two old men could still be like this.”

Steve raises his head up with a scowl that’s offset by the red still staining his cheeks, voice indignant even without the Captain America persona in place. “I didn’t even say anything!”

Natasha snorts and takes a sip of her beer, head shaking. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, Barnes’ mouth is big enough for you both,” Sam says, clinking his class together with Sharon when she laughs at the joke. 

Bucky squints and gives the three of them a warning look as he finally dice back up. “You better watch what you say about your hosts while you’re in their house. Don’t you have manners?” He doesn’t give them time to respond (he already knows the answer anyways), instead holding the dice between two fingers and holding them up to Steve’s face with a smile. 

“Gonna blow me for good luck, babydoll?” he asks, cut off by a fresh round of scoffs from their friends and another groan from Steve, who looks at Bucky with an exasperated smile. It isn’t a no. Bucky nudges the dice towards his lips and ignores everyone else’s expressions of faux disgust. He knows damn well they’re happy for them, even when Bucky’s being grossly affectionate. “C’mon, sweets. Good luck charm, remember?”

Steve’s lips twitch, and Bucky knows he’s winning him over. “Buck…”

“ _Someone’s_ trying to get lucky.” Bucky ignores Sharon’s whispering in favor of giving Steve an overly sweet smile, the kind he knows Steve is never able to resist. 

This time is no different. Steve sighs, and even when he’s shaking his head a moment later, he’s leaning in and blowing a stream of air over the dice and ends of Bucky’s metal fingertips. Bucky can’t feel it, but it has him grinning like the cat that got the cream anyways, and that in turn has Steve blushing. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” If they were alone, Bucky might make a joke or deliver a line about getting Steve in a cocktail dress to match the move, but as things are, Bucky thinks he’s got him squirming enough already, so he keeps his mouth shut past pecking Steve on the lips for good measure. 

Sam seems to have other ideas, though, and that- that’s what leads to the _it_ in question. 

Eyes glued to Bucky’s hand tossing up the dice, Sam’s mouth moves into a lopsided grin before flicking up to Steve’s face, still only inches from Bucky’s own, lips curled up from the kiss. 

“You know, for all that Barnes is calling you something disgustingly sweet every two seconds, I don’t hear you doing that much,” he says, a lighthearted barb obviously directed towards Steve. Then, to Bucky, “You’ve got a list of sappy names two miles long for your boy, you know that?”

Bucky shrugs, not thinking much of it. That’s the way they’ve always been, even before they got their shit together and finally kissed. He doesn’t notice the way Steve freezes next to him, too busy focusing on his roll landing (thankfully _not_ on one of Sam’s spots) to pay much mind to him in the moment. 

He’s gonna regret that later. 

“ _Sweetheart_ isn’t exactly an out of the ordinary thing to call my boyfriend,” he eventually says, grin triumphant when his piece passes go and collects his reward for doing so. 

“Don’t forget _Stevie_ ,” Natasha says drily, lounging back while waiting for her turn, beer half gone by now. She looks at Sharon when she says it with an expression so fond Bucky would be itching to point out the hypocrisy if he wasn’t busy stacking his new cash. 

“Or _sugar_ ,” Sam chimes in. “ _Honey_.” His voice is teasing.

“God forbid we leave out _babydoll_ ,” Sharon scoffs, accepting the dice when Bucky passes them over. “I’m kind of glad I’m not your neighbor anymore. I don’t think I could take hearing that through the walls.”

Steve, still semi frozen next to Bucky, seems to thaw out a bit at the direct address, clearing his throat before sitting up a little straighter and giving them all a tentative twist of his lips into a smile. “We aren’t _that_ loud,” he says, and although he sounds exasperated and embarrassed both, Bucky knows he’s really happier than anything to have friends that they’re comfortable joking around like this with. 

“As someone who has slept on your couch more than once before, six in the morning is _far_ too early for me to hear Bucky calling you _dollface_ just for getting him a cup of coffee.” Sam’s grin is proof he’s just poking fun, but Bucky huffs anyways. 

“What I call my guy in our home is my business.” He pulls Steve closer and notices for the first time just how stiff he is, but chalks it up to being tired after such a high-energy evening of being around their friends. 

Sharon throws out her hand at the same time she rolls the dice, gesturing to Bucky with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “And there he goes again, ladies and gentlemen!”

Bucky flips her off, but any response he’s gearing up to give is distracted by the movement of Sharon’s piece on the board moving to land on one of his spaces- Vermont Avenue has finally come in handy. 

Any more teasing about Bucky’s penchant for pet names and Steve’s aversion to using them is put to the side for the night, and by the time Steve and Bucky are leading their friends out the door a good two hours and taste of Bucky’s (store bought) brownies later, Bucky’s practically forgotten the conversation occurred to begin with. It’s just a blip on the radar of a long day gone right. 

For Steve though, it becomes an _it._ An _it_ he must be thinking about for a majority of the week, because it’s not for another good five days later that he begins to bring it back up. 

-

Again, Bucky doesn’t notice _it_ , but he does notice how weird Steve’s being even if he isn’t quite sure why. Sometimes that’s just how Steve is, to be honest. He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly before the serum, and after- being thrust into the limelight made being publicly adored a bit of an awkward thing to navigate. He’s confessed to Bucky more than once (usually before public appearances or before one of Stark’s parties) that he still doesn’t quite know how to handle himself. 

Bucky’s usually a bit of a refuge during those moments- he might be a little bit of an interesting introduction to make, but he’s always been able to find the groove of interaction one easy to get into, even after getting a bit out of practice thanks to the torture and resulting difficulty relating on a human to human basis. It’d been a process to go back into doing after leaving Steve on the river bank with his own mind addled and out of sorts, but Bucky likes to think he’s come pretty far. Far enough for Steve to use him as a shoulder to lean on when he’s feeling shy or stiff under public pressure. Steve’s own measures of choice when Bucky’s feeling similar are more _exit the premises_ than _act the extrovert,_ but that’s just the way they work. Different ways of taking care that work as well nonetheless. 

Well, this particular one only really _works_ when _Bucky_ isn’t the one Steve is being weird around in the first place. But as things are...that’s how things are. 

Case and point, the way Steve practically tumbles over when Bucky walks up one morning to where he’s set himself on the counter to scroll through his work e-mail while his coffee heats up behind him in the pot. 

Bucky steadies him from startling too much with a laugh and hands light around his waist, figuring in the moment that he just hadn’t heard him coming. Sometimes Bucky is a little accidentally light on his feet- scaring Steve is somewhat of an amusing pastime he has (especially when it ends with Steve smacking him while ending up in his arms) but this time hadn’t been intentional. He’d just wanted to kiss him good morning. 

He does, and Steve’s demeanor softens the slightest amount when he feels Bucky’s not yet trimmed stubble scraping against his own already washed face. What? Bucky’s never claimed to be a morning person, not now that he has the option to sleep in without it being because he took a graveyard shift. 

Steve’s been up for a good few hours, but he still blinks back sleepy slow when Bucky pulls away, still half stepped between his legs on the counter. 

Bucky smiles and kisses him on the cheek just for good measure. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Steve stiffens just like he had on monopoly night, but Bucky assumes it’s because of the metal fingers brushing cool against his skin. His voice when he responds holds an odd quality Bucky doesn’t know where to place. “Good morning, Buck.”

“Sleep okay?” Bucky reaches around him and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl on their kitchen island, keeping it in hand while he waits for Steve’s coffee to finish perking. It’s not much of a breakfast (especially for someone of his size and stature( but throw it in some granola and yogurt and it’ll do. 

Steve hums as Bucky’s other hand finds its way to settle on his knee. He locks his phone and sets it down beside them. “You should know. You were in the same bed.” He’s still sounding a little off, but not even that is enough to erase the _little shit_ in his tone. 

Bucky raises his hand back up and flicks him in the nose for it, watching Steve wrinkle it up with an amused expression and a half step back when the blonde tries to retaliate. “You’re a punk.”

“That’s old news by now, Buck.” Steve smiles, and it’s the first genuine expression he’s worn, but the awkwardness Bucky can’t find reason for is right back again as soon as the expression drops. “Want me to pour you a cup when it’s ready?”

Bucky skims a hand through Steve’s bangs before stepping away towards the cabinets where they keep their dishware with a grateful smile and a nod. “Thank you, angel. You need any breakfast?”

“I ate already.” Steve shakes his head, and by the time the rest of his answer comes, Bucky is facing the opposite way, busying himself with grabbing down a bowl for his own breakfast. He gets as far as peeling the banana open before Steve pipes back up, voice stilted. “Um, thank you though. Honey.” 

The bowl drops back down on the counter with a bit of a clatter, Bucky’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Thankfully he’s still facing the opposite way so Steve can’t see, but Bucky tries to smooth out his expression anyways. 

_Honey_. That’s….new. Out of the ordinary. And (Bucky feels bad for thinking it, but what Steve doesn’t know Bucky is thinking won’t- can’t- hurt him) a little bit amusing being said so awkwardly. 

He remembers a vague conversation with Sam and the girls a few days back and assumes Steve is making a callback to the joke, so he doesn’t say anything about it besides a slightly endeared “You’re welcome, sweetheart” that comes out a good thirty seconds too late. 

Turning back once the coffee is ready, Steve seems to be more thrown off by saying the name more than Bucky is hearing it, cheeks still red and shoulders tucked in where he’s sitting on a barstool counter clutching both his and Bucky’s drinks. 

Bucky tries not to snort. His guy is cute. And funny, without having to try sometimes. He walks over, sets his bowl down, and kisses Steve on the temple before hopping up on a stool next to him, affection as natural as ever even when Steve has gone awkward. 

He takes pity on him eventually and bumps their shoulders together while he starts eating, shift in attention putting Steve at ease. “Got any hot new work gossip?” That’s code both for gossip in the literal sense and mission assignments in the figurative. They both usually get emails that cover them both (perks of a less than professional workplace relationship, Bucky supposes) and Bucky’s phone is in the bedroom- not to mention Steve has looked like he’s ready to spontaneously combust with discomfort ever since the word _honey_ came out of his mouth. 

Steve looks slightly relieved at the opportunity to switch to a tone closer to businesslike, nodding and leaning closer so Bucky can get a look at his screen too. “They just sent out this week’s schedule. We’re together most of the week.”

Bucky smacks his cheek with a kiss and overly sweet smile that gets Steve’s eyes rolling before he even says anything. “Just how it should be, then.”

Steve sighs, and his shoulders relax for the first time since Bucky’s seen him awake today. “Should be focusing on saving the world, Buck.” His words sound much more comfortable this time around, but Bucky still can’t help but put out a line to get him squirming again. 

What? The opportunity is right there- and Bucky Barnes has never been one to let those go amiss. “Well, you’re my world, Stevie,” he says easily. “Saving you kinda comes with the job.” He kisses him on the temple when he gets up to clear his breakfast dishes, scent of Steve’s shampoo still thick in his space when he turns away. “And with the whole _live in boyfriend_ thing.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Steve’s teasing back, but his ears are still pink from the remarks, and Bucky grins when he comes back up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist and kiss up on his neck. He’s sure his breath still smells like coffee- but Steve settles back into the gesture anyways, and when they kiss, his mouth tastes the same. 

“You’re a lot of things,” Bucky says after they break apart, leaning his chin down to rub his stubble against Steve’s skin. They have to get ready for work in the next hour, so Bucky’s going to make the most out of the few moments they have now. “But the picture you make- _Jesus_ , you woulda made me such a pretty wife back in the day.” _Back in the day_ being when it was illegal for either of them to have a husband. 

“Bucky!” Steve sounds scandalized, but he doesn’t even bother twisting to get Bucky to let go or let up. It’s a tease they’ve both heard before and it might get Steve squawking but he knows Bucky doesn’t mean anything by it. Still, he can’t keep from grumbling even while craning his neck so Bucky can get a better angle at it. “Not room for any dames in this relationship.” God knows neither of _them_ are one, and Bucky hasn’t picked up a girl for real since 1935. Steve’s never had much of an interest. 

Bucky chuckles and bites at Steve’s pulse point. “Alright, alright. Fine. How’d’you feel about being my house husband instead?”

Steve pretends to consider while Bucky kisses up on him some more, settling on a hum and hitched up breath when Bucky bites down right under where his collar will hide the mark before it fades. “Don’t know how practical the title is considering I have a pretty well known job- we _work_ together- but-“ his inhales and lets Bucky lick up to the corner of his mouth. “Guess I’ll take anything that comes with being your husband.”

“I’ll make an honest man out of you one day,” Bucky murmurs, kissing him one final time to seal in the promise. Then, because unfortunately, the real world awaits outside their kitchen, “Speaking of those jobs, we have to go get ready for ours. Up and at ‘em.”

Steve grunts but lets Bucky pull him up and towards their bedroom to get dressed. They have a press event for the day, which means full uniforms- and god knows the buckles on Bucky’s tac jacket take a full fifteen minutes just to get in place. “Yes sir,” he says sarcastically. 

Bucky grins. That’s one name from Steve he could get used to, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on that line of thought right now. He’ll save it for the next time _it_ comes up, although he’s still not yet sure what the _it_ is supposed to mean. He’ll find out. Steve’s never been able to be subtle about anything for long. 

-

True to form, Steve’s awkwardness makes its appearance as soon as the day after next, right when Bucky pops by the conference room at SHIELD he knows Steve and Sam are residing in for the day, talking over tactics for their next assignment together with Maria. He has lunch in hand although he knows he can’t actually stay long enough to join Steve in eating it- but he figures if they have to spend the day apart, he can at least make sure to stop by and say hello during his break. He’s a sap like that. 

Sap enough to feel his heart warm when Steve’s hear jerks up and sees Bucky’s own leaning inside the newly opened up door frame. “Buck,” he says, sounding relieved. “You on break?” Like he doesn’t already know, thanks to both of their schedules being logged in on his phone. 

Bucky smiles and holds up the bag of Chinese takeout he has clutched in hand. “Brought you lunch, sweets. You both look like you need a break.”

“I don’t suppose you brought _me_ lunch, did you?” Sam drawls, tossing down his pen and stretching now that he knows Steve is ready to stop for. whole. 

Bucky pretends to be put out, sighing and tossing the bag on the table. “I guess there’s a _few_ extra egg rolls in there without Steve’s name on them.”

Steve snorts and hands them over to Sam once he has the bag open. “And here I was feeling special,” he says drily, glaring when Sam flips him off. “Did the bird brain just give me the bird?”

“That’s bird _man_ to you, Rogers,” Sam snarks back. “Barnes, reign in your boy.”

Steve colors the way he always does at being acknowledged as Bucky’s in public- like he doesn’t get some type of way even when _Bucky_ does it in private _-_ and Bucky laughs, walking over to stand behind Steve’s chair so he can tug at his hair with a fond look. “You heard him, blondie. Play nice.”

Steve seemingly has to fight between tucking his chin down at the tease and tilting his head back to look at Bucky, settling on folding his arms and looking up to the side where Bucky is only slightly in his view. “How about _you_ play nice with _me_?”

“Aw, sugar,” Bucky croons, half out of what comes naturally and half for the benfit of getting Steve to blush. Sam makes a retching noise from across the table, but Bucky pays him no mind, too busy skitching his fingers through Steve’s hair in a move that always gets him to melt. “Don’t be sore at me.”

Steve huffs and lets Bucky lean down to kiss him. “I guess you did just bring me lunch and all…” he trails off before fully lifting his head to catch Bucky’s smile. “You gonna stay and eat?”

“Can’t,” Bucky says regretfully. “I’d love to, but I have an appointment for a new training uniform fitting in about five minutes, so I’ll have to head down there pretty soon.”

Steve makes a sad sound, but nods his head. “Thanks for the food, Buck.”

Bucky kisses his hair again before squeezing a hand over the back of his neck and straightening up to leave the room and Steve for the rest of the day. “I’ll see you when we head back home, sweetheart. Text me if you’re gonna go over late, I’ll come up and help if you need.” He gives Sam a fake annoyed sigh. “Save me a fortune cookie, would’ya?”

“I’ll try to keep one safe,” Sam promises with an exaggerated smile. 

“Focus on keeping my guy safe first, yeah?” Bucky ruffles his hair one last time. “Make sure your plan helps keep his punk ass out of trouble.”

Steve gives him a look at the way they’re talking over him, but doesn’t protest past smacking his hand away when he tries to tug on it again. “ _Bucky_.”

“ _Stevie_ ,” Bucky teases back. Then, finally getting back to what he should be doing, “I’ll see you later. Don’t let Wilson steal all your hot and sour soup, honey.”

Steve’s weird demeanor has been distant during this entire exchange, but at Bucky’s departure, suddenly is right back at the surface. He’s squaring his shoulders up and clearing his throat before Bucky even makes it to the door. It’s almost like he waits until both Bucky and Sam are looking at him to speak- like he’s about to try and provr a point no one knows he’s trying to make besides him, but once they both do, his words still come out as if they’re stuck in his throat. 

Upon hearing them, Bucky once again understands why. 

“Thanks again for the, uh, lunch,” he gets out. Then, hesitantly, “Babe?” He phrases the name (one Bucky doesn’t even tend to use himself) like it’s a question although it’s clearly meant to be a dismissal. 

Bucky has to hold back the laugh this time, smiling maybe a bit too wide and a lot too amused before nodding and ducking out the door. He can still hear Sam (who had definitely been holding in a laugh of his own) speaking behind him though, snort let out loud while Bucky rounds the corner. “ _What did I just hear you say, Rogers?”_

That’s a question Bucky is asking _himself_ since the repeated anomaly is pointing in a direction that’s _not_ a callback to a joke- but once again he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it. He has a fitting to get to- and Steve is bound to crack at some point anyways. Bucky’s not sure if this is a joke or Steve trying out something new (which would make sense, if Steve looked like he was enjoying it at all or had ever been the type of person to talk like that the way Bucky is) but he has to find out eventually. They live together, after all. House husbands (especially when they’re Steve Rogers, world’s shittiest liar) can hold no secrets. Not from Bucky Barnes. 

-

That night when they get home from work marks a full week since their friends had been able to come over for their little get together, and Bucky thinks maybe he can chalk Steve’s weird behavior up to that. _Maybe_. It makes a little sense- he’s missing them, and having them here and them gone (or at least as gone as Sam can get until his stay in New York for work is up) could have been a little off putting, especially to someone as formerly lonely as Steve has been- _had_ been- after Bucky’s fall and before his return back to (autonomous) life. 

And, Bucky reasons, maybe if Bucky gets him comfortable enough, he’ll talk about it. Quit acting weird. If that’s not what it is, a night of wining and dining his best guy isn’t exactly on Bucky’s list of things he’d rather not be doing. It’s a win in either scenario, one could say. Bucky would _definitely_ say.

So, that night when Steve is busy showering off the work stink he always complains about, Bucky (having freshly showered himself in the locker room after his uniform fitting) decides to get a few things together for the occasion. 

Wine glasses, some alcohol (although neither of them can get anything past tipsy), an order of takeout quickly delivered from their favorite italian place down the road, even some chocolates from inside the cupboard- all placed kitty corner onto their dining room table, rarely lit candle set in the middle to top it all off. 

As quickly pulled together romantic evenings in with his best guy go, Bucky thinks he’s done a pretty good job. The shower should help Steve relax, and once he sees the setup Bucky’s got going for him, he also should be right on his way to ready to talk. 

Bucky doesn’t think much about his relationships or experiences before Steve- he barely remembers them, and even then he knows he hadn’t loved them the way he loves Steve- but the skill they gave him in being able to pull off things like _this…_.well, he may not have been the womanizer they all wanted him to be, but being a sap with Steve put those acquired skills to use just as well. Being a hopeless romantic- and hopeless _flirt_ , as Steve would say- has always come naturally to him, pet names, pretty words, and planned dates included. 

Also as Steve would say, the habits have only gotten worse in his old age. As if Bucky’s life hadn’t started off only a year before his punk ass. Bucky supposes the taunt is fair enough game with how he’s always holding that year above Steve’s head himself with all the calling himself _Steve’s old man_ teasing- but still. _Bucky_ is the tease in this relationship. 

He’s got a hint of that worked into his expression that welcomes Steve, still fresh and shower damp, into the kitchen where he can see the setup laid out behind where Bucky is smiling at him. 

He still has his towel wrapped around his neck, blonde hair fluffed up like a dandelion, and his expression is so soft and confused at what he’s seeing that Bucky can’t help but take in what _he’s_ seeing with a kiss that he tugs Steve into with the fabric dangling on his shoulders. 

Steve still looks confused when he pulls away, head ducking down to peer at Bucky’s bare feet and worn out sweats that go right along with his own. Maybe it’s out of place with the rest of the romantic dinner Bucky’s got going on for them, but he’s taking a leaf out of Sharon’s book. Comfy clothes are a must. After all, getting Steve comfortable is the whole point of all this, isn’t it? 

With that thought in mind, he cups Steve’s face in both hands and gives him another kiss, softer and sweeter than the first. “You feeling all freshened up?” Might as well get a read on where Steve’s head is at. 

Steve blinks and nods, although he still looks a little mixed up. “What’s all this? I forget we’re celebrating something tonight?” His eyes flick to the food already plated up on the table behind Bucky. His forehead is still damp when Bucky presses his own forward to rest against it. 

“Nah,” Bucky says, stroking over Steve’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Just felt like doing something nice for my best guy, is all. You have any objections to that?” He keeps his voice light, but something still shutters in Steve’s eyes, although it doesn’t keep him from smiling shyly at Bucky in response. 

“Won’t ever hear any complaints from me about that,” he answers quietly, hands resting on Bucky’s mismatched shoulders. 

“Well then, good lookin’,” Bucky teases, dropping his own hands from Steve’s face with another firm kiss that leaves Steve dizzy enough with it to not protest when Bucky twirls them both around and pushes him to walk towards the table. “Let’s go see what’s cookin’.”

Steve groans at the line, but lets Bucky pull his chair out and push him down to sit before one of the plates. “You ordered it. You should know.”

Bucky snorts and pours out the wine he had set on the table into their glasses. They can’t get drunk or anything past tipsy on the stuff, but it’s for continuity. Can’t wine and dine without the wine. “Keep up the attitude and the dessert I had planned will be off the table, babydoll.” His purred out words make the implication of exactly what he means by _dessert_ clear, and it isn’t the box of chocolate sitting on the table. 

Steve’s wine flush seems to be setting in early with the sip he takes after Bucky’s thinly veiled proposition. “Jerk.”

Bucky grins and decides to show him a little mercy with the teasing- at least while they eat. He changes the subject right as Steve begins to tuck in to his salad. “How was the rest of your day at work? Get your strategy all sorted out with Wilson?”

Steve welcomes the reprieve gratefully, shoulders tensing down the slightest bit as he launches into answering Bucky’s question with a summation of the plan they’d settled on. Work talk makes him act a little less weird this past week, Bucky has noticed. He still isn’t sure what’s going on, but he aims to find out tonight, as amusing as watching Steve fumble and squirm is. 

Curiosity has always gotten the best of Bucky. That’s how he had met Steve in the first place, after all- he’d heard the scuffle Steve had been having in an alley while walking down the street, decided to check it out and intervene, and now he’s here today. A century later with Steve stil by his side. 

He can remember that first meeting, funnily enough. Maybe because it led to so much, maybe because it was buried so deep not even Hydra could hide it away- but either way, he still has it in his head and heard, just like he still has Steve. 

Steve, who had tried to deck him mere moments after they met and Bucky saved his ass for the first time from a fight. They hadn’t known how many more of those would come, but Bucky had been quick to squash the confusion about his intentions that had Steve fluffed up at him. 

_“Woah there, cowboy,” he had said. “Holster those guns. I come in peace.”_

He had most likely only called Steve that because he’d been listening to too many western radio programs at home, but somehow the nickname had stuck, even when they grew out of being kids and he grew out of listening to the radio for anything other than news. He doesn’t use it much nowadays with all the other options he has, but sometimes he still pulls it out when Steve is puffed up like he had been that day in the alley. It’s a nice memory to have. 

He’s still distantly recalling it when Steve finishes his spiel about the mission he and Sam have upcoming, attention shifting back into focus as Steve clears his throat and pushes his pasta around his plate before speaking. He sounds a bit...odd, although his question is anything but. “So...how was your day?” What comes after, though- _that_ is finally enough to make Bucky break. “Doll?”

Listen, Bucky might feel bad about it later, but he can’t help it in the moment. He looks at Steve incredulously, takes in the stiffness saturating him, and bursts out laughing louder than he has since Nat got drunk enough to call Sharon _Shar-Bear_ on monopoly night. 

It’s a good thing his mouth is clear at the moment, because if it wasn’t he’d most likely be choking. Steve’s own mouth twists into a frown, eyes narrowing the longer Bucky’s little laughter fit go on. He looks bewildered, and a little off balance. Even more so than he had the other morning when he called Bucky _honey_ in the kitchen. 

That’s what’s got Bucky so amused right now, after all. Jesus, he knows that he’s one to talk with how often he calls Steve _babydoll_ , _dollface,_ or _doll_ himself, but Bucky Barnes calling his lovers (now, _lover_ , singular) doll is one thing. Steve Rogers on the other hand...Steve Rogers trying to call _anyone_ doll- let alone _Bucky-_ is a whole different thing on its own that Bucky thinks he’s within his right to find hilarious. Even if it’s getting Steve huffy as hell next to him at the table. 

He doesn’t mean anything by it, but he knows better than to let Steve stew in the uncertainty before he gets riled up. That’s the last thing Bucky needs while trying to romance him. 

So, wiping his eyes with the back of his flesh hand, he leans forward onto the table enough for Steve’s shoulder to bump against his own where they’re still sitting semi-next to each other. “Stevie, what the hell is up with you lately?” Better to ask now than never. Their plates are mostly clear anyways. 

Steve’s shoulders are hunched up, arms crossing to rest on the table top where his plate has been pushed forward. “I don’t...I don’t know what you mean, Buck.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else. Like Bucky said- world’s shittiest liar. 

Bucky chuckles again and tries to stifle it when Steve’s side eye gets dangerously close to a glare. He laces his fingers with Steve’s resting on his forearm and squeezes. He still finds Steve’s behavior funny as fuck, but he wants him to genuinely know he can talk to Bucky too. 

“You know I’m never gonna make fun of you for trying something new that you want…” he starts slowly, because it’s true. He won’t- god knows Steve has done the same for him in return with his grown out hair and whatnot. “But…”

Steve sighs. “But what?” He sounds resigned, like he already knows what Bucky is going to say. 

Bucky decides to say it anyways. “You seem to be doing some things that make you a little uncomfortable lately. I just kinda want to know why that is, sweetheart. I don’t ever want you to feel like you need to be uncomfortable with me.” That’s also true. Whatever _it_ is going on with Steve right now, Bucky doesn’t want to inadvertently be the cause. That’s his best guy, after all. 

Steve winces, and Bucky gets a little worried for the first time. He squeezes Steve’s hand again, stroking his knuckles until the other man seems to unwind enough to get an answer out.

“I guess I haven’t been very subtle,” Steve says self-deprecatingly. 

Bucky nudges against him to lighten the mood. “Never are.” 

That at least elicits a small smile, one that only lasts a second before Steve goes on reluctantly. “I’ve just been…trying it out, you know?”

No, Bucky doesn’t know. That’s the whole problem, one he’d like to solve before dinner is over. He decided to just cut to the chase- being honest with Steve is a luxury he no longer takes lightly after all they’ve been through. “Trying _what_ out exactly?”

Steve’s voice comes out small and after a good thirty seconds of silence that sits heavy between them. “You know, the whole...name thing. Like you do with me.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to blink. “What? Why?”

Steve’s ears are turning red, but he seems at least a little less pent up now that he’s gotten at least a smidge of what he’s been keeping pent up off his chest. As usual, the rest of it starts coming out soon after. “Sam said something about it the other day,” he mutters. 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. “Yeah?” He vaguely remembers what Steve’s talking about, but he doesn’t understand why it matters. 

Steve apparently thinks it does, though, going on so rushed it’s almost a ramble. “And I guess I got to thinking that maybe he had a point.”

“About?” Bucky asks, still trying to track Steve’s train of thought. He can’t yet. Sam didn’t do anything but point out something that’s pretty much always been a part of their dynamic. 

“Jesus, you’re not making this easy.” Even Steve’s scoffing is softer than usual, a telltale sign something is all tangled up in that blonde covered head of his. Regardless, after taking in a deep breath, he goes on with it. “I know he was just teasing...but...he picked up on it enough to _notice_.”

_Noticing doesn’t always mean something negative_ , Bucky wants to say, but he doesn’t, because Steve still isn’t done talking.

“I just...“ Steve sighs and doesn’t pick back up until Bucky squeezes his hand again to reassure him. “You know, you’re always calling me sweet stuff, sappy nicknames, all of that. And I know I might complain about it sometimes-“ Bucky snorts and thinks about how Steve smacked him the last time he pulled out _sugartits_ when they were trying to get it on- “But I really do like it.” His eyes drop to their joined hands, and his lips curl up the slightest amount. “I like it a lot.”

“I like saying them,” Bucky says, because he does. Even outside his former status as the neighborhood flirt, he grew up in a big family with parents who weren’t exactly doting, but didn’t skimp on the affection either. Nicknames and cheesy crooning are practically second nature by now, especially with someone he’s known as long (and in so many ways) as Steve. “I like saying them especially _because_ I know you like hearing them.”

“I guess I just figured maybe you would like to hear them back, too,” Steve says quietly. This seems to be the crux of his confession, because the words come out heavy enough to hang between them, thicker in the air than the scent of the candle still burning in front of them. “Hearing you say I’m your sweetheart, best guy, baby, _whatever-_ it makes me feel special, Buck. I don’t like the idea of keeping something like that from you when you deserve it just as much with all that you give me.”

_Oh._ Bucky has to sit on that for a moment as well for the words to sink in, and Steve seems to take this as validation for the sentiment he just expressed- which couldn’t be further from the truth, but there’s no stopping Steve once he gets his mind set on something. 

He sighs and leans back enough for it to feel like he’s pulling away, but Bucky doesn’t let go of his hand, just holds on tighter. “You do so much to make me feel special and cherished- Christ, you put together this whole dinner tonight on a whim- and here I am not even able to call you a few lousy pet names and feel comfortable with it. You noticed that and I haven’t even been trying for a week. Sam noticed too.” He sounds upset with himself. He probably is. 

But Bucky isn’t, not by a longshot- he hates knowing Steve is feeling this way over him, but also...it’s kind of cute seeing him so flustered trying to take after Bucky on the stupid names front. Still, no matter how fun it is to see Steve blush trying to force himself to say _doll_ , Bucky wants to squash the insecurity before it can set itself in too deep. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, sitting sideways in his seat to better look Steve in the eye. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t want you to do it. Not even for my benefit.” Steve makes a protesting noise, but Bucky cuts it off with a firm look and brush of his foot against Steve’s own. “That would make me more unhappy than anything else to begin with, which kinda defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

Steve looks reluctant, but nods. “Yeah,” he mutters. 

Bucky uses his other hand to cup Steve’s face and keep their gazes steady. “Steve,” he says softly, just so the other man knows he means what he’s about to say. He decides to tell him verbally anyways. “I mean it.” He waits for him to nod before going on. “Sweetheart, you do more than enough for me without trying to force yourself into... _whatever_ you’ve been trying to recently. I appreciate the gesture, but it’s okay that your love languages and comfort boundaries are a little different than mine.”

“Pretty literally different for the love languages,” Steve gets out under his breath. Bucky rolls his eyes good naturedly and squeezes his hand. 

“I don’t expect you to do everything I do, or vice versa. Do you expect me to do things I’m not comfortable with just because you like doing them yourself?” He knows the answer is no, but waits for Steve to shake his head. “Exactly. It’s a two way street, pal.”

“Just want you to feel like I love you just as good,” Steve sighs, letting Bucky scoot his chair closer so he can lean into his space. “Sappy names aren’t my thing, least from my own mouth. But I- Buck, you’re the most important person in the world to me and I just want to be sure I show you that. Always have been, ever since we met.” He smiles, a little wistfully, and Bucky knows he’s remembering their first meeting too. “Even though it was by you sticking your nose in my business as usual.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky taps his thumb over Steve’s own nose where he’s still cupping his face. “Any business of yours is business of mine. A friend in need is a friend indeed, right?”

Steve snorts and Bucky can feel it against the vee of his palm. “And you decided I was your friend even when I tried to fight you before I knew your name?”

“Told you after all my friends call me Bucky, didn’t I?” The Bucky in question grins and leans forward to kiss Steve square on the lips, no doubt still tasting of wine and garlic bread, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. “That’s a nickname, isn’t it?”

“One everyone uses!” Steve protests. 

“Which is _exactly_ why you started calling me Buck- you aren’t as slick as you think, kid.” Bucky kisses the next protest off Steve’s mouth, laughing into it. “Had to give my nickname its own nickname to make yourself feel special?” He brings his lips next to Steve’s ear like he’s telling him a secret. “I’ll let you in on something- it makes me feel special too.”

Steve makes a soft sound. “Yeah?”

Bucky’s response is just as soft. “Yeah.”

“Guess I’ll keep doing it then.” 

Bucky hums and strokes over his cheekbone, metal palm warmed up against his skin. “How about calling me _doll_? You gonna keep doing that as well?” His tone makes it clear he’s teasing, and Steve’s responding groan lets him know he’s picked up on it. 

“It sounds so natural coming from you, but- it makes me feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.” He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Don’t know how you do it.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Bucky says, laughter bubbling back up. “Hearing you try and say _honey_ was kinda cute, even if it made you go all deer in headlights on me.”

“I felt like somebody’s mother. And my ma didn’t even talk like that.” 

It’s true, Sarah didn’t, whatnot with the Irish accent- Steve’s own from childhood faded the more time he spent at school and around other people, but there’s a few words he says sometimes that still hold enough of a hint of it to make Bucky smile and miss her more than ever.

“I thought _babe_ was a nice modern twist.” Bucky finally leans back in his chair and frees both hands up to clear his plate, but not before tugging on Steve’s hair to make him smile. “ _Sweetheart_ will always be one of the classics, though.”

“You didn’t start calling me that until I was seventeen,” Steve points out, pushing up out of his chair to join Bucky in taking their plates to the kitchen. “Pretty sure there were a few that came before it. Even if they weren’t romantic.”

“What, _cowboy_ and _Steve-o_ aren’t romantic enough for you?” Bucky pretends to be taken aback, pulling Steve in by the hips once their plates are in the sink so he can bury his face in his neck in mock despair. “Next thing you know _punk_ won’t be good enough either.”

Steve laughs and lets Bucky hug him around the waist. “Is _jerk_ good enough for you, then?” He sounds happy. Bucky is glad to feel him more at ease. 

“More than.” He kisses his neck. “Anything from you is.”

Steve sighs and melts into Bucky’s ministrations of marking him up, hands resting on the outsides of his shoulders. “Love you.”

Bucky holds him tighter, words tucked into Steve’s skin where all of Bucky’s love belongs. “Love you back, sunshine.”

Once Bucky’s head lifts up, they kiss quietly in the kitchen for a minute, slow and sweet. It’s only when Bucky presses Steve back enough for his ass to hit the kitchen island that they part, Steve pulling his head back just enough to speak, lips now swollen and shining. “So about that dessert you promised me…”

Bucky grins, teeth glinting in the low light from above the sink. “I seem to remember offering it on the condition of you losing the attitude. You think you’ve been good on that front?”

Steve pouts, although he knows damn well Bucky is going to give him what he wants in the end regardless- Bucky wants it too, after all. “Good _enough._ ” He nudges against Bucky’s nose with his own. “You just said anything from me is.”

Bucky is suddenly reminded of exactly why he started calling Steve _punk_ to begin with- half the time, it’s a thinly veiled alternative to the word _brat._ Or in this case, little shit. 

He wouldn’t want Steve any other way. 

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pulls Steve’s hair again before twirling him around by the hips and pushing him to walk backwards out of the kitchen. “Guess I’m a man of my word.”

Steve doesn’t stop smiling even when Bucky has to pause their walk to the bedroom to blow out the candle on the table- safety comes first, even before either of them- and snatch up the chocolates to tuck under his arm. He’ll be saving them for later, it looks like. Most likely for Steve’s comedown after Bucky takes him _apart._

For now he’s still put together, though, enough to run his mouth. He might not be much for pet names or dirty talk the way Bucky is, but that stubbornness doesn’t shut him up no matter the situation. “Gonna make me forget how to say my _own_ name? Make sure the only one I’m saying is yours?”

Bucky huffs at the line- not as good as one of his, he doesn’t think, but a nice try. “Maybe I’ll make you try on a few other names to call _me_ for size,” he says, pushing open their cracked bedroom door with his metal palm outstretched behind Steve’s head. “Different situation might make it easier, and well…I’m always saying I’m your old man. How’s daddy that different?”

Steve smacks his chest for that harder than he had at _sugartits_ the other week, but looks more exasperated than irritated, so Bucky doesn’t count it as a total loss. “James Buchanan…”

“ _Sir_ might be a little too on the nose with the whole army thing, but I think-“

“ _Bucky-_ “

“You said you wanted to try!” Bucky laughs, tossing the chocolates somewhere on the floor so he can push Steve down on the bed. Steve looks up at him with a poorly concealed smile, but is still rolling his eyes when Bucky leans down to kiss him. “Maybe you were just trying the wrong kind of name, sweetheart.”

“Maybe,” Steve murmurs, tilting his head so Bucky can kiss at the sensitive spot under his ear that they both know he loves. “We’ll see.” 

Bucky puts that train of teasing to the side for the moment and goes in to kiss him again, but pulls away at the last moment with a lopsided smile Steve raises his eyebrows back. “Hey- we missed another nickname you call me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks. He looks suspicious, for good reason-

Bucky’s got a shit eating grin on that comes with his answer. “Remember that time I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island and you-“

The understanding sinks in immediately, and Steve’s nails into Bucky’s back follow soon after. “Buck,” Steve groans, eyes closing at Bucky’s responding laugh. “Please. Just shut up and kiss me.”

Bucky’s grin doesn’t dampen, but he does as he’s asked, dipping back down to give Steve the promised dessert he deserves. “You got it, doll.”

(Steve’s _always_ got him)

**Author's Note:**

> steve calling anyone Doll and Sweetheart is a crime in my eyes idc! 
> 
> happy new year !!! this is my gift to us all. heres to hoping this year goes better.


End file.
